


A Gentle Touch

by RayeoftheSunshine



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 16:12:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RayeoftheSunshine/pseuds/RayeoftheSunshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He focused on it; it soothed him, even comforted him. It was a girl's hand." Vanitas wakes up long after his battle with Ventus in the presence of someone he doesn't know. A hint of VanitasxNaminé.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Gentle Touch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChupaQueso](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChupaQueso/gifts).



> My first ever submission to ao3. This is also on my fanfiction account (so if you recognize it, that's why).  
> I give this to my partner in crime (errrr friend)--Rachel, who got me into shipping these two in the first place.

The last thing he remembered was watching the χ-Blade slip from his grasp and desperately trying to get it back. Then his body dissolved into light and he lost all sense of self.  
Which was why a part of him was confused when he slowly began to feel a gentle hand stroking his face. He focused on it; it soothed him, even comforted him. It was a girl’s hand. Why would a girl be touching him so… nicely? There was a better word, a better description, but it wasn’t one he understood.  
  
Then he noticed that his head rested on something soft. It shifted ever so slightly and he realized that it was a pair of thighs. So… this girl (probably a girl, anyway) had his head in her lap.  
Vanitas’s eyes popped open and he looked up. He had been correct; a girl, one he had never seen before, looked down at him. She saw that he was awake and smiled. Her hand didn’t stop stroking his face and he had to resist leaning into it. “Who are you?” he demanded half-heartedly in a quiet voice.  
  
“My name is Naminé,” she answered. “I found you in Sora’s heart. No one knows you are here but me.”  
  
That explained part of his next question, at least. “But… how am I alive at all?”  
  
“You are half of Ventus’s heart. He connected his heart to Sora’s. You could not die while Ventus was still connected to him.”  
  
He stared at her. “How do you know who I am?”  
  
“I have the power over the memories of Sora and those connected to him. I know everything about you.” Her eyes became sad. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”  
  
“If you know everything about me, you should know I’m a monster,” he told her, this time turning away, although it meant turning into her hand.  
  
“You are not a monster,” she murmured, gently turning his face back so that he was looking at her again. “You are a boy. A boy who was lied to and used like so many people.”  
  
“I’m not even human!” he shouted, sitting up. She reached up and he thought she was going to slap him, but instead her thumb brushed underneath his eye. He shuddered and reached up, feeling tears. “I’m not human,” he repeated, suddenly struggling to keep his voice steady. Why did Ventus get to be human and not him? Why wasn’t he human too?  
  
“It’s all right,” she said soothingly. “I’m not human either. But that doesn’t mean we aren’t people.” Naminé continued to wipe away his tears until he couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed her into a hug, burying his face into her neck. His body shook as he tried to hold back sobs.  
  
Tentatively, she put her arms around him. Her hands on his back made him shudder, and not from the tears. He’d never felt skin contact on his back before. Vanitas pulled away just enough to look at himself—he didn’t have his clothes on. “Wh-what?” he asked aloud, perplexed, staring at the shorts on his legs. Never had he seen so much of his skin.  
  
“When I touched you, the first time… Your clothes melted away.” When he looked up at her face, she blushed slightly. “I found you these instead.” She turned and picked up a shirt, handing it to him. It was a thin, white button-up and he took it, staring at his bare arms and his fingers. Naminé watched him slowly button most of the buttons. “I didn’t think you would like being naked.”  
  
“This is weird,” he said, bringing his hands in front of his face. He summoned the darkness around his hands, and his forearms became covered with his body suit. At least that still worked.  
  
Naminé touched his hands, locking her fingers with his. A light glowed from her hands and it licked away the suit, but the darkness moved over to her and caressed her arms, moving away and disappearing into the air as the glow died. The light had felt incredible; what was she? “How can you do that?” he asked, gazing at their joined hands. Her hands were so small in his, like the rest of her.  
  
“I’m made of light the way you are of darkness,” she replied quietly. “I’m part of a Princess of Heart.” Her entire body glowed and he could feel the darkness reacting inside of him. Before he could stop himself, it escaped his control and surrounded her, almost engulfing her completely. Her hands squeezed his and her light shot through the darkness, threading its way into him.  
  
He gasped in surprised pleasure, releasing her fingers and touching his chest. “What was that?” he demanded, scrambling to stay in control. “Why do you keep affecting me like this?”  
  
“Light and dark does not need to always be at odds,” Naminé answered somewhat evasively, her voice soft. “They can work together and be balanced.” Her light dimmed again as the darkness touching her receded.  
  
He scoffed, not wanting to believe it. “For how long? It won’t be long before one wins out over the other.” That’s how it always was, he learned. The opposing forces simply couldn’t work together.  
  
“You’ve been sleeping for years,” she murmured. “I brought you out of Sora’s heart months ago and this is not the first time your darkness has tried to consume me. Yet every time you did not; instead, they hooked and twisted together.” She made a tugging gesture and he felt a part of him jerk—he looked to see that where light threaded along his body, darkness stitched along hers. They were like the embroidered tapestries he’d seen in a few of the worlds.  
  
He traced the path of one line; she shivered and reached to touch her arm where the opposing line lay. “This is… interesting,” he said at last, dropping his hand. “So, we’re connected?”  
  
“Yes,” she answered, taking his hand again. “Your darkness balanced out with my light.”  
  
“But, Naminé, I could,” he stopped, actually ashamed of what he was going to say. “I could destroy you.”  
  
“But you won’t,” she told him, smiling. “Trust me.” Her free hand stroked his face and once again it soothed him.  
  
“Why are you being nice to me?” he asked, covering the hand on his face. “If you know everything about me you should know that I don’t—well, I’m not a saint.”  
  
“Because you were not born evil,” Naminé answered. “You were born in pain and responded to it the only way you knew how, the only way you were taught. Thus I do not blame you for your actions, even if I don’t like them.”  
  
So she did know. She knew those feelings he first had: confusion, pain, the need to be a part of Ventus again. Words failed him again. Suddenly he needed to make sure she was real; he took hold of her face with both hands, touching her neck, tucking her hair behind her ear. “You are real,” he breathed, his fingers brushing against her collarbone. “You’re real,” he repeated, grazing her shoulders and drawing her into an embrace again. “I can’t believe someone like you is real.”  
  
At that he felt tears on his shirt—she was crying. “I exist to you?” she asked in a weak murmur.  
  
“Yes.” The word was so simple but it seemed to have the most meaningful effect on her. She cried harder and hugged him tightly, as if she needed him. They sat holding each other, and he marveled at being able to touch someone without that person trying to hurt him or run away. Maybe… maybe he would stick around. “Naminé? Can I stay here?”  
  
She pulled away enough to look directly at his face, surprised. “Do you want to?” she asked.  
  
“Yeah.” He didn’t want to explain.  
  
“I’d like that,” she said quietly.  
  
Vanitas nodded in contentment, shifting his position so he could lie in Naminé’s lap once more. This time he let out a sigh when her hand went back to stroking his face. Things would be okay now.


End file.
